


Hellfire

by afterandalasia



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Come as Lube, Community: disney_kink, Consensual, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration in Two Holes, F/M, Facials, Gangbang, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prison Sex, Size Kink, Taken From Behind, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6493939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You had better spend your last night in prayer," Judge Frollo said, standing at the foot of the stairwell and lit with fire. "If you have any care for your immortal soul."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Esmeralda laughed, the sound tasting bloody on her tongue. "I would rather spend my night fucking your men than praying to any god that would accept you."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>If it is to be her last night alive, Esmeralda decides, then she will at least make the most of it. And the guards of the jail are almost too easy to manipulate to her will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hellfire

**Author's Note:**

> From the [anon prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/361.html?thread=997737#t997737) at the Disney Kink Meme, asking for Esmeralda to be enjoying a prison gangbang.
> 
> The original prompt actually asked for Esmeralda to be OoC, but in writing I tried to balance her characterisation with enough porn-logic to result in a gangbang. It means there's the occasional moment of implied darkness - she is to be killed in the morning, after all. But mostly, porn.

"You had better spend your last night in prayer," Judge Frollo said, standing at the foot of the stairwell and lit with fire. "If you have any care for your immortal soul."  
  
Esmeralda laughed, the sound tasting bloody on her tongue. "I would rather spend my night fucking your men than praying to any god that would accept you."  
  
The flinch on the man's face made it delicious, sent a thrill through her. Lips curling into a predatory smile, Esmeralda pressed up against the bars, pushing her thigh forwards so that her skirt ran up to reveal the curve of her calf. She saw the twitch of Frollo's hands, the way he swallowed.  
  
"Do you like the thought of that, _Judge_?" she called out. Frollo turned on his heel and tried to sweep up the stairs, but she raised her voice to let it follow him. "Would it harden your prick to see me fucking them?"  
  
He stumbled on the stair, out of her sight but with his shadow still visible, and she laughed to see him go. As his footsteps faded away, though, Esmeralda fell silent, and felt the dig of claws into her chest again. She rested her forehead against the iron bars of her cell. Tomorrow, she was to be burnt. What was one to do with their last night alive? She had already looked around her cell and found no way to escape, nothing but straw and empty manacles and a huge, solid lock. Perhaps she was lucky she was not in the manacles as well. There would be no escape for her.  
  
She turned, pressing her back to the bars, and lifted up her hair to expose the curve of her neck to the slightly-cooler air. _Prayer_. What was one night supposed to count for, in the face of death, compared to everything else she had done? She had heard the Ten Commandments by which Judge Claude Frollo was supposed to live, and so far as she knew she had not broken them. Frollo, with the blood on his hands, would be the one to burn.  
  
The thought made her laugh again. It bubbled from her lips, and must have hidden the footsteps of the man who entered the room, torch in hand.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" he said gruffly.  
  
Esmeralda turned her head to look at him, but he would not catch her eyes. They feared her, these city men, in a different way than they feared their master Frollo. They feared what she could do to them, what she could persuade them to do.  
  
That thought bought another smile to her lips.  
  
"Oh soldier," she called. The man's eyes flickered, but he pretended not to look round as he checked the lock on her door. Esmeralda pulled her blouse down on one side, to expose not just the lines of her shoulders - though they turned men wild enough - but the full curve of one breast. She licked her finger, letting her tongue flick over the tip, then reached down to run it around her nipple. It hardened in the air, shining and brown against her skin. "What's wrong? Do you not like what you see?"  
  
The soldier took a little longer at the lock than he should have done, and his hand trembled slightly. Esmeralda continued to trace circles as she slumped back against the bars, looking every bit as wanton as any man watching her had imagined her to be. A light pinch to the nipple, a little gasp from her lips, and she saw the man twitch and start to breathe more heavily. He was not armoured like the men in the street, just with a sword at his waist and a helmet on his head; no armour covered his chest, and his hose and doublet between them were not enough to hide the way that he was becoming aroused.  
  
Smirking, she tossed back the curls of her hair and with one hand pulled up the hem of her skirt to reveal ever more of the line of her leg. As her thigh snuck into view, the soldier turned and banged his fist against the bar.

"Stop that at once!" he snapped.  
  
Esmeralda ignored him and finally drew her skirt high enough for her hand to slip beneath it. She was mildly surprised to realise how turned on she was by this, having this man watching her like this, and as she rolled her nipple between finger and thumb she let the fingers of her other hand brush over her warm, slick labia. An appreciative little moan slipped from her lips.  
  
"I said stop, you slattern," repeated the soldier, now knocking with the hilt of his sword against the bars. But his voice had cracked.  
  
"But sir," she said breathily, opening her eyes to look upon him but not stopping the slow circles of her fingers upon her clit, the rustling of her skirts that it created, "however am I to spend my last night, else?"  
  
He made a vague noise of disgust and turned as if to walk away.  
  
Esmeralda bought his attention back with another soft moan, arching her back. Her blouse was threatening to slip from her other breast, the darkness of her other nipple just visible at the top of the fabric. She bent one leg, sliding her foot up against the bar, tilting it outwards slightly so that the movement of her hand was almost - _almost_ \- made visible to him. The soldier was breathing faster now, and could not tear his eyes from her, and her fingers felt exquisite on her skin, hot with the desire of others on her.  
  
"Do you want to fuck me, soldier?" she purred.  
  
All that the soldier managed was a sort of strangled sound. Esmeralda withdrew her hand from beneath her skirts, to a flicker of disappointment on his face, but it faded fast enough when she put one finger to her lips and slowly, tauntingly, slipped it into her mouth. She tasted like salt. There was a definite sense of urgency to the soldier's stance, a change to the fall of his doublet.  
  
She pulled her finger from her lips with a soft wet pop, and reached down to undo the knot that held her skirt in place.  
  
It slid to the ground. There was a time that she would have been furious to think of it lying on some filthy cell floor, but it was not as if that could concern her now. They put you in a white dress for executions. She reached up and peeled down her blouse as well, then even reached up and undid the ribbon from her hair and let it twirl down to the pool of fabric at her feet.  
  
Wordless, the soldier watched it all.  
  
It was really remarkable, what a female body could do to men. The mere sight of one, the mere _thought_ of one. As if half of the world did not have them. Esmeralda walked slowly across the cell, hips swaying, fingers still shining and nipples hard in the air. By the time that she reached the door in front of him, the soldier was still looking at her, slack-jawed. He was not a wholly unpleasant-looking man; perhaps a couple of years younger than her, with nothing more than peach fuzz upon his chin and wavy dark hair beneath his helmet. He was only just beyond arm's reach. She could coax him closer and grab his sword, she supposed, pull it from his sheathe and-  
  
And what? Stab him? Stab each man that came for her until one of them bought a crossbow? Perhaps this way was better.  
  
"Will you fuck me, _monsieur gazier_?" She leant forwards, bosom heaving, feet set apart on the floor. She could feel the cool air against her cunt, the heat curling deep in her belly, the ache to be fucked. She let her teeth trail over her lower lip. "They need never know. I would rather go to the grave," she leant forwards, letting something conspiratorial creep into her voice, "with a man's fuck dripping down my thighs, then dry as a nun's coney."  
  
One hand crept down to slip between her thighs again, teasing light strokes over her entrance. She tilted her hips upwards a little more, putting an arch to her back and a curve to her breasts, and saw lust overtake sense in his eyes.

He snatched off his helmet and sword, hands trembling, and pulled the key off the hook on the far wall. It clinked in the lock, but Esmeralda could not have thought to push past him before he was pushing her up against the bars, hands on her wrists. She could feel his hard cock through his hose, and wrapped one leg around his thigh to grind against him. It was a hollowness that was more than just the physicality of her cunt, and as the soldier fumbled with the ties of his codpiece, then his braies.  
  
"Let me," said Esmeralda, and it was not a suggestion as she slipped from his grip, sliding down to crouch in front of him. Her deft touch made light work of his clothes, and she tugged them aside to release his cock. It jutted obscenely forwards, the head flushed in the torchlight, thick as she wrapped her hand around it.  
  
Without waiting for him to react, she ran her tongue over the head, and the soldier groaned. The taste of skin, of the skin of _another_ , sent a thrill through her, and she pressed one hand against his thigh while the other stayed wrapped around his cock and her mouth set to its work. She drew her tongue over the underside, toying just beneath the head, letting her hand pump slowly along his shaft. Modestly sized, she found herself noting, but certainly not lacking, and she was glad of it as she closed her mouth around the head and let him sink into her with a moan. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, flicked at the slit, but when he shuddered she drew away and looked up with warning eyes.  
  
"You promised to fuck me, soldier."  
  
"Then let me fuck you," he replied hoarsely. He pulled her upright again, tried to push her up against the bars, but again Esmeralda proved too agile and turned away from him. A grunt of protest started on his lips, then died as she arched her back again, presenting her ass to him with her legs spread enough to show her ready cunt beneath. "God's teeth," he breathed.  
  
His hands gripped her thighs so hard that they would likely bruise; the thought made her laugh, as if she should care for such a thing now. She felt the nudge of him against her entrance, as if he was uncertain, and she tilted her hips and pressed back at the same moment that he thrust forwards.  
  
 _There_. Her hands curled around the metal bars as he filled her up, stretched her out again. She felt his hands shifting, getting a better grip, but it was nothing to the hot pleasurable feeling of having him in her, each thrust a fresh rush of heat rolling up through her.  
  
"Harder," she gasped, and the man grunted something that might have been agreement. The next thrust became a pound, their flesh slapping together, and she felt the rush of him inside her like a torch alight with pleasure.  
  
Ever since she had first allowed a man to fuck her - a fumble one evening just beyond the reach of the fires, the pair of them more girl than woman and more boy than man - it had been right. She did not need to worry for the world when there was a man inside her, when she could flex those secret muscles and hear him grasp, feel the workings of his cock and the strange pain-pleasure of her cunt stretched around him.  
  
The world closed in to the feeling of his thrusts, the sway of her breasts, his pants and hers mingling on the air.  
  
And, all in an instant, it stopped. "What was that?" the man said.  
  
"Fuck," hissed Esmeralda. The soldier stepped back, slipping out of her, and she felt it like an ache. She whirled to face him, his dick still wet with her, but he was hastily trying to tuck himself away again. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Next patrol," the man mumbled, reaching for his braies. She snatched his hands away, anger and lust making her bolder than ever, wrapping her hand around his cock and pumping hard. His eyes squeezed closed and his cock twitched in her hands.  
  
"Let them see," she said, making it a silky promise. "Let them fuck me as well, let them fuck me as your seed trickles out."  
  
"You are mad," he said.

She slapped his cock, and he yelped. "You were the one to call me slattern," Esmeralda said. "Do you imagine that men are the only ones who wish to fuck? If you were, you would have only each other to bugger." She pushed his shoulders back, sending him stumbling towards the wall, and strode boldly to the open door just as the two men appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Hey!" one of them shouted, going for his sword. The other drew in a breath which, Esmeralda just knew, would be to call for more men. "Get back in there!"  
  
"Now now, gentlemen," said Esmeralda, "do you really think that you need weapons?"  
  
It is a well-known fact that many a man in possession of a working cock will struggle when faced with any attractive woman. A quite naked one, her lips debauchedly swollen and her thighs shining, is still harder to deal with.  
  
The one with the torch seemed to deflate. He had golden hair, and if she ignored the great moustache and the roundness to his cheeks she could almost have imagined that he was Phoebus. Not that it mattered. The other was skinny, with a reddish-brown beard and an expression that verged on the terrified.  
  
"What are you doing?" said the one with the torch, as if it was not apparent.  
  
"Your fellow soldier was fucking me," said Esmeralda breezily. "Would you like to take a turn?"  
  
To judge from their expressions, neither man had been spoken to in such a manner before. Even whores tended to be a little more circumspect in their words. Esmeralda ran one finger across her inner thigh, then ran her tongue over it again.  
  
"This is some trick," said the one with the beard.  
  
His fellow patrolman frowned, then put his torch into a bracket on the wall and shrugged off his swordbelt and hat as the first soldier had done. "You want to be fucked, harlot?"  
  
Again, she smirked. "Maybe you need his cock in your ear, to clean it out." Anger flickered across the soldier's face, but Esmeralda was laughing as he pushed her back against the bars. She met his eyes unwaveringly, feeling more and more like the predator, the one that _they_ should be fearing. "Are you man enough to fuck me?"  
  
He put one hand to her throat, not choking-tight but enough to hold her still, as his other hand slipped between her legs. She opened them for him willingly, felt him slide two fingers into her, and clenched her muscles around him to see the lust flash in his eyes.  
  
"Fuck," he said, half in admiration and half in disgust. "She's wet as the morning rain. You want a fucking? We'll see to that. Jean!" he snapped to the man with the beard.  
  
Esmeralda allowed the man to wind one hand into her hair, letting it pull tight against her scalp. She could feel the tension on the air, smell it on the skin of the man as he dragged her over to the table and pushed her up against it. The first soldier followed them out of the cell with confusion apparent on his face, as if he could not imagine how the woman that seduced him could also have the arcane power to seduce other men. She could have laughed just at his expression.  
  
She braced her hands on the table, feeling it bite against her ass, and spread her legs just a little. _This_ man had a bolder look in his eye, the look of a man that has a devil on his shoulder and no fear of it, and his hands did not shake as he unlaced his hose and pulled out his cock, already hard and shining with pre-cum, and met her eye as he pushed slowly into her.  
  
"Better," she said, the corner of her mouth curling. She reached up and slipped one hand into his golden hair, gripping at least as tightly as he done, so that she saw him bare his teeth at the sting. But he ignored it, taking hold of her hips to fuck her, already so wet from wanting that it was no effort to take him in. His cock was a little thicker, she could feel, stretching her just a little more, and her breath came quicker as he took her against the wood, the edge of the table scraping against her with each thrust and just enough of a counterpoint to the pleasure.

The first soldier had slipped off his shirt and hose, leaving just his braies, still obscenely open around his cock. With a toss of her head Esmeralda called him over, and as he came closer she released her grip on the blond soldier and took hold of the cock of her first volunteer. She pumped his cock in time with each thrust, her motions made a little ragged by that very fucking, and laughed when the third soldier finally bowed to join his fellows and fondle her breasts.  
  
His hands were rough, fingers strong, just right to squeeze and to pinch at her nipples. She glanced over to see his erection through his hose, then turned smouldering eyes back on the one fucking her.  
  
"Has it been a while since you've had a woman?" she teased, a biting edge to her voice. "Because you fuck like a churchman."  
  
She laughed as he turned to her with a growl of anger, laughed as he slapped her across the face. "You've had churchmen, have you?"  
  
"Churchmen and lords and gentility," she said. "You'll have to work to impress me."  
  
Something glittered in the man's eye, and a thrill went down her. There was something so very _satisfying_ about letting them think that they were the ones with the bright ideas, that they were the ones devising this all.  
  
"Jean," said the blond guard to the one with the moustache. "Kneel on the table. Get behind her."  
  
She allowed them to pull her down onto her back, without the man's cock ever leaving her. Mock them she might, but in her own head she would appreciate it. The man that had been called Jean knelt on the table, and as she was pressed back his cock came over her face, shaft and balls all standing free of the fabric. Without letting them be the one to decide it, Esmeralda reached up to take hold of him, flicking her tongue over the underside of his cock before suckling against his balls. He groaned.  
  
His cock already curved slightly downwards, and she stroked her hand along it before guiding it between her lips. She bobbed her head, letting it slide into her mouth, her tongue now pushing against the top, the head, and she felt him shifting to better angle himself that he could thrust into her mouth. The taste of his skin flooded her, slightly musky, salty, slick with saliva and pre-cum as the head of his cock brushed over the roof of her mouth. She felt _alive_  
  
The heat of anticipation coiled and turned over on itself into pleasure at the touch, a cock in her cunt and a cock in her mouth and a hand - it did not matters whose hand - coming round to rub her clit. She dug her heels into the man's ass, ran her hand over the thighs of the man kneeling by her head, and did not have to think about the moans and little sounds that started to leave her. Hands stroked her hips, her breasts, and they were _hers_ , her rushes of pleasure, hands and cocks all focusing on her body. Each touch seemed to radiate heat through her.  
  
"Hell," grunted the man fucking her, and drew back sharply, panting. With a slick wet sound, Esmeralda turned her head away from the cock that had been busying her mouth and turned angry eyes upon him.  
  
"My turn," said the first soldier who had answered to her, pumping his cock with one hand to harden it again. He tugged Esmeralda closer to the edge of the table and rubbed the head of his cock along her entrance, letting it grind against her clit before slipping back down. "We were interrupted."  
  
She pushed herself upright again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Then get on with it."  
  
The request did not have to be made twice. With an almost angry expression, the soldier wrapped one arm around her waist as he thrust into her again, burying himself deep in her with each snap of his hips. She laughed again, the taste of precome on her lips, feeling the hands of the others reach in again to stroke her ass, her breasts, her stomach, her throat. Now _this_ was a way to feel alive.  
  
It seemed to take no time as the soldier fucked her, his back becoming slick with sweat as she felt the muscles in his back and sides shifting as she wrapped her legs around him again. His heavy breath became panting of exertion, and she could feel the tension winding through him as his eyes began to glaze over.

"Spill your seed in me," she said, her voice a little more of an order than a request. "It will not have time to root."  
  
"Fuck," said one of the other men, "you've got a filthy mouth on you."  
  
"We all saw that," said the third, and the two of them laughed nervously, as if they were not quite sure they were allowed to. But Esmeralda threw her head back and laughed as well, louder than either of them.  
  
"Some tongues were made to preach, or to sing," she said, eyes flashing green as she turned on them, each thrust harder now and winding tighter, pulsing pleasure into her though it was not enough, nowhere near enough. "Some were made to fuck."  
  
The hand that had been caressing her throat slid up, and two the soldier with the moustache pressed two fingers past her lips. She sucked them in greedily, ran her tongue around them and bobbed her head, and saw his spit-slicked cock twitching at his groin. She let her eyes fluttered closed to lose herself to them, cock and hands and searching fingers, and finally felt the rush of something that might be a prelude to climax, a wet rather than a dry pleasure that was something more than simply the readying of her cunt to be fucked.  
  
" _Sacre madre_ ," groaned the man buried in her. She locked her legs around him lest he pulled away, and felt the hot pulse as he came, still trying to thrust his twitching cock deeper into her. She could feel it spilling from her, hot and sticky on her thighs, but only when he slumped over her breathlessly did she release him and slide her mouth from the fingers it sucked, in the same moment.  
  
Slipping one hand between her thighs, Esmeralda bought it up again sticky with come, and licked it from her fingers with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. Even if the men had not heard the footsteps in the corridor, so intent had they been on fucking her, she had. And what was there to hide? She had nothing left to lose, nothing more to sacrifice; the worst that she could see would me that the newcomer would stop their sport, and even then she could laugh at the thought that they would have to report it to Frollo and tell him of her indecencies.  
  
She did not expect the man called Jean to pale and step away, trying to cover his cock with one hand. "C-captain!" he stammered.  
  
For one fraction of a second she had the absurd thought that it was Phoebus, and that if there was any man she would not wish to see her like this, it would be him. But no, Phoebus was a traitor now as much as she was, and would have his own cell in this place. Though doubtless he would be spending his last hours rather differently than she was.  
  
She turned to look, eyes falling upon a man with a captain's armour and a leader's bearing, with one soldier on each side of him and a shocked expression. There was a glitter of arousal in his eyes, though, and when he spoke his voice had a hoarseness to it.  
  
"Who is this whore?" he said.  
  
"Why captain," said Esmeralda, before one of the men could say something foolish, break the spell that she had woven with shining lips and heaving breasts and the musk of sex in the air. "Why do you think that I would demand payment?"  
  
She could feel the trickle of seed down her thigh, white against the brown of her skin; her hair was sticking to her skin with sweat.  
  
Strange, how luck could abandon her outside but be with her in this place. The lust in the captain's eyes grew, overcame his shock, and he strode over to grab her by the throat with one gauntleted hand. Her wits could not forgive her if she did not grab for his sword, but the soldiers around her grabbed her wrists to restrain her, and even as she pulled against their holds she gave a feral smile, full of teeth, to the man facing her.  
  
"You are no prostitute, then, you say?"  
  
"Or one who takes fuck instead of coin," she said, feeling the damp of his palm against her skin. She caught his eye, held it defiantly, and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. From the expression on his face, she coud see the exact moment when his lust won out against his duty, and he reached down to fumble at his hose in turn. She turned her gaze to the two other soldiers still in the doorway, looking uncertainly at each other. "Watch," she said, "join, I care not. At least he is man enough to fuck me."

The captain finished undoing his braies to reveal his cock, and Esmeralda had to stop herself from cursing in arousal at the mere sight of it. She had fucked enough men to know a large cock when she saw one, and the captain's cock was long and thick, standing proudly from the red-brown curls at its base. A fresh wave of arousal washed through her, breath coming faster, at the mere thought of having him inside her, pressing all against her walls. He ran his hand over her entrance, up to toy his fingers against her clit and send trembling waves through her, then raised it to show the twin shine of her own arousal and another man's come.  
  
"Turn over," he said. There was something in his voice that made her cock her head. "They can have your cunt. I'd rather not fuck through another man's seed."  
  
"You think yourself too good for my cunt?" she teased.  
  
From the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips, she knew that she had him. But she did not expect him to grab her hips and drag her from the table, turning her to push back against it all in one motion. A cry left her lips, but it was edged with laughter, and she spread her legs to present her ass to him.  
  
He pointed to one of his men. "The oil." When the soldier did not respond, his voice grew harder. "The oil, boy, or it will be your ass I fuck without it."  
  
His hands came to knead her ass as the soldier hurried to comply. His fingers were rough, his touch firm, and when he let his thumbs brush over her tender cunt she had to bite back a moan.  
  
"There," said the captain, and for one moment one of his hands left her skin. She felt the cool trickle of oil down the cleft of her ass, then his strong fingers guiding it, tracing her tight asshole and then pressing in the first finger.  
  
It had been longer since she had allowed a man to take her ass. She felt tight around his finger, the intrusion welcome and not enough as she tried to press back into him.  
  
"Eager," he said, and she realised with a shiver that he was leaning over her, speaking almost into her ear. A second finger joined the first, curling slightly, pumping into her. Then they were withdrawn, and Esmeralda hissed at the emptiness they left in their wake, the hollowness after the pleasure.  
  
A nudge against her ass made her realise why they had been taken away, and with an arch of her back she offered up her ass. "You are lagging, captain," she said. "Three of your men have had me already."  
  
She could taunt him no further as the head of his cock pressed to her asshole. Fuck, but he was large. Slowly he eased into her, and even the oil was barely enough; she felt herself stretching, felt him pushing to fill her, his hands steady on her hips.  
  
" _Fuck_ ," she could not help but moan, slumping against the table as still he continued to stretch her. The burn of pleasure seemed to ripple from ass to cunt and back again, and she whimpered as finally she felt his hips come to settle against her, the hardness of his cock buried in her.  
  
"Was that not the payment you asked for?" he said, running one hand down the curve of her back.  
  
For a moment, Esmeralda could not reply, feeling as if she might climax just from the stretch of herself around him. Then she managed a breathless laugh, pushing herself up off the table to let her back arch and her breasts sway. "It was indeed. You are a rich man, Captain."  
  
"So I have heard."  
  
She moaned as he drew back and then thrust slowly into her again. She could still feel her own wetness at the first soldier's seed dripping down her thighs, and the cool oil against the smouldering pleasure. The captain's hands pressed the cheeks of her ass apart, and she wondered if he was enjoying the sight, his cock buried in her and her ass stretched obscenely around him. She squeezed down to hear him grunt, and then he thrust a little harder, jolting her against the table and making her gasp in return.  
  
A game, then, if that was what he wished. She clenched her muscles around him, cunt and ass both, and he began to fuck her with increasing speed as another of the men - she did not care which, it was not as if it mattered - came to kneel on the table in front of her and wrapped a hand into her hair to bow her head to his cock.

Fore and aft she let them take her; she had known whores who did this, though she had never done as such herself. The thought made her shudder and let her press closer, drawing the man's cock right down her throat, hearing him make a strangled cry as her lips met the base of him. His hands tightened in her hair, and with a judder of his hips he came, hot and hard. Esmeralda pulled back with a wicked laugh, closing her eyes to feel it splatter across her face and tasting it on her lips, all salt and skin. She felt it paint in stripes across her cheeks, and as she laughed it was becoming easier to take the captain in her ass, his thick cock still feeling as if it was pushing deeper and wider with each thrust.  
  
"Come here," the captain growled, and pulled her upright with an arm around her ribs, arching her back and changing the angle of his cock in her so that it seemed to grind deeper. His hand groped down her front and slipped between her thighs, fumbling for her clit. Another of them added his hand, sliding his fingers into her, as his hard cock brushed against her hip.  
  
She spread her legs a little wider, letting them support her weight as the captain continued his buggery and the second man added a third finger to fuck her with. Hands on her breasts; she closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensation of the hands, the sound of grunting and panting and the men with their hands still on their cocks out of desperation for her. It is only as the captain slid out of her that she looked round again, this time with a curled lip of disapproval.  
  
"What is the matter, captain? Has your cock lost its way?"  
  
But the man was still red-cheeked and smiling darkly, and he pulled her away from the table to let another man step in front of her. She had not had this man - his cock is shorter, thicker, curved slightly downwards and twitching-hard.  
  
"I once had a whore who took a man in her cunt and one in her ass at the same time," said the man before her. "What do you say to that?"  
  
She met his eyes unwaveringly. "Bring me a whore and I will fuck her as well. Or let her fuck me, if she has the dildo for it."  
  
It made the men laugh, and the soldier before her lay back on the table. With a toss of her hair, Esmeralda stepped forwards and climbed to straddle him, taking him in hand to rub the head of his cock against the wet lips of her cunt. When he tried to take hold of her hand, she slapped his arm away, hand curled so that her nails scratched his skin, and pressed him against her clit just to infuriate him.  
  
"Hell and brimstone," she heard him breath, turning his eyes away just for a moment with the muscles of his neck cording, and only then did she guide him into her, slowly sinking down.  
  
Her thighs were warm with effort as she rode him, feeling the ghosts of pleasure still rolling through her and crashing back and forth against the new waves coming from the feel of his cock. She was expecting it when one of the men stepped forwards and she felt the press of a cock against her ass again. From the length as it settled in, she knew it was the captain, and then his hands slid down her waist. With both hands, she lifted up her hair and took them both, rolling her hips into them, every beat of her pulse throbbing through her and bringing waves of pleasure with it.  
  
Hands slid over her hips and waist, cupped her breasts, dragged over the line of her throat. She let them, did not care for whose they are, just for the pleasure on her skin and the fullness rushing through her. The pleasure built in her, and her eyes lolled half closed as the muscles of her thighs grew tight, her belly pooling with heat. Faster she took them, pleasure spiking and thudding, until with a cry she came, shattering, almost falling forwards as stars burst behind her eyes and heat rushed through her.  
  
"She even screams like a whore," said one of the men appreciatively, and Esmeralda chuckled along with them.  
  
"I learnt it from your wife," she replied, hoarse-voiced.

A hand slapped against her stomach, but the sting was nothing more than sharp pleasure, nothing compared to the tender pleasure-pain as she contined to grind her hips against the cocks within her. Reaching down, she wrapped one hand around the throat of the man on the table, feeling the tension in his neck as a sudden jolt of fear went through him. Perhaps some deep part of his brain remembered what it was to feel afraid. Her fingers brushed against the flutter of his pulse.  
  
But she did nothing more than fuck him harder, slamming her hips down against him, the cock in her ass grinding more than pounding. "Spill in me," she said, the order feeling almost silken on her lips. "I want to feel your fuck on my thighs."  
  
Perhaps it was her words, but more likely the way in which her cunt was taking him, hard and fast, her breasts bouncing against her chest almost-painfully, the little ripples of his muscles and the reddening of his face more than worth the streaming sweat and the ache in the top of her thighs. Perhaps it was that they might never have met a woman who dared to fuck them so. But she could tell from the snapping of his hips that he would not last one.  
  
"Spend," she snarled, and with a groan he did, hot seed flooding in her then splattering against the lips of her cunt as he slipped out. Esmeralda slipped a hand down, pumping his softening cock with fingers sticky with the fuck of two men, even as he flinched away with the oversensitivity of his skin.  
  
The captain pushed aside her hair to press his lips to her ear, burying himself as deeply as possible in her ass as he did so. "You give orders like a soldier," he panted. She was impressed that he had this stamina, that he had held out for longer than two of his men already.  
  
"And you fuck well, for a man," she replied.  
  
With a grunt, he withdrew from her again, and she slid to the floor and turned her back to the table. Her cunt felt hot and ready still, and when no man came forth immediately she slipped down a hand and thrust two fingers into herself. Hands pumped harder on cocks as she fucked herself on her own hand, feeling herself edge closer and closer, grinding her clit against the heel of one hand and pressing back against the table with the other.  
  
The thought of them watching her, half-helpless, as she bought herself to climax with nothing more than her own hand, sent another rush of dark amusement through her. She could feel herself coming closer again, breath hitching, legs trembling, and adding a third finger she felt herself crash down into climax once again with a groan that edged close to a scream.  
  
Her fingers were wet with herself, with the men, as one of the soldiers grabbed hold of her and pushed her back against the table once again. She did not care who it was as they fucked her, pleasure still echoing in her cunt, the hands of another still on her breasts, her throat still rough with lust and use. She curled her fingers around his neck and clenched her muscles down around him, murmuring formless encouragement, twin climaxes driving at least some of the bite from her words though she kept her eyes turned on him as a snake hypnotises a rat.  
  
He groaned as he came, and she locked her legs around him with her feet pressed against his hips to keep him there and feel the hot rush of his seed inside her. It was a thrill, as if she was taking a little spark of life from each of them, these men that were so willing to fuck her and send her to the stake when the sun rose. Then the next man, barely more than a boy with fuzz on his chin that showed he could not even grow a beard, and she took him too with the seed of the others mingling in her and covering his cock from the first stroke.  
  
He lasted little time, and made a choked sound into her shoulder as he came, and again she felt the rush and felt just a little higher, a little headier with lust and ecstasy. The next man - fuck, she had lost count, she no longer cared - slid fingers into her dripping cunt then smeared the mixed fluids against her ass, slipping over the oil that lingered there.

"You think you can fuck as well as your captain?" she taunted him, and when he scowled turned her laughing green eyes on the captain himself, still waiting and watching, one hand cradling his cock but not even needing to stroke it to keep it hard.  
  
The man pulled her hips forward, canting them up that he could position his cock at her ass, and she let out a low moan as he slid into her. It was easier than the captain, his cock smaller but not insignificant, and the angle at which he fucked her was a pleasant change. The sticky hands of the other men reached in to stroke or squeeze her breasts, and when once reached down to rub at her clit she felt the flashes of pleasure building again.  
  
"Saints' stars," she swore, and perhaps it was her words or perhaps the moan that betrayed itself in her voice but the hands became faster, pinching her nipples hard enough to hurt and intense enough to send bolts down her spine, rubbing at her thighs, grinding down against her clit as the man with his cock in her - she had no more care for him than his cock and hands and what they were capable of - fucked her harder, filling her with heat and pleasure and the slow, burning stretch around him.  
  
This time, she was the one to climax first, throwing her head back to cry out as pleasure crashed down over her again. It was almost painful now, almost too much, her cunt clenching tight and her skin feeling hot and swollen beneath their continuing ministrations.  
  
"Have you had enough?" said the captain, reaching in to cup her jaw.  
  
She graced him with a feral smile. "I have no fear of you men and your pricks."  
  
As he came, the soldier drew back, and she felt his fuck on her ass and her thighs, shooting up across her belly to splatter on her sweat-heated skin.  
  
And then there was only the captain left. Esmeralda reached down to wrap her hand around his cock, unable to quite reach all the way around, and slowly pumped along his length. There was cool, fresh oil on his skin; he must have put it on when the others were fucking her, leaving a little of themselves to go to the fire as well. A little of their life to burn away. Her fingers slid up to toy with the head, toying with his foreskin and rubbing it gently back and forth, when he snatched her hand away with a grip like iron around her wrist.  
  
She could have slapped him, spat in his face. Instead she allowed him to turn her to face the table again, pinning her hands down against the warm wood. This time he did not ready her with his fingers, and straight away she felt the duller pressing of his cock, spreading her open and sinking in deep in one slow, confident thrust.   
  
She felt her nails digging into the back of his neck as he fucked her, his hands on her hips, beads of sweat trickling down her brow and down the centre of her belly. Bending forwards, he bit down on the curve of her shoulder, and she cursed again but bucked her hips to thrust back against him, gasping for breath, giving herself over to him.  
  
The captain, at least, she did not need to concern herself with ordering around. Esmeralda closed her eyes to the bites across her shoulders, the hands of the others still groping at her, kneading, squeezing, and the captain's cock deep in her ass stretching her out to her pleasure.  
  
His skin slapped against hers, his grunts and her pants both edged with moans on the air. Pleasure crashed down on her one last time, too hot and bright for her to do anything other than scream, digging her nails into his skin until she felt the stickiness of blood beneath her nails. The world exploded behind her eyes, raw in her throat and metallic on her tongue, pounding through her faster than the captain's fucking, going on so long that she felt her strength threatening to leave her and barely even noticed when the captain came inside her like his men, his seed mingling with theirs until their identities were lost inside her.  
  
She was still laughing, with shaking legs, as they bundled her back into her cell, suddenly unable to look at each other as they wiped off their limp cocks and stuff them back into their hose. Only the captain was brave enough to face her, clothed to her nudity and guard to her captive but still not intimidating to her. After all, what had she left to lose?

"I do declare," he said. "You may be the most brazen harlot that ever I have met."  
  
"And does that frighten you, captain?" She stepped closer to the bars, into the firelight, letting it lick across her sex-marked skin and light her face like a devil's. Remarkable, how easy it was to play on men's lust, how easy it was to play on their fears. "Do you think it witchcraft?"  
  
His eyes traced down her, then back up again. "No. I think it honesty."  
  
For the first time in that night, she felt naked.  
  
  
  
  
  
They left her in the cell, and the room fell quiet again. Sex hung in the air, rang on the walls, pulsed in her body, and when Esmeralda closed her eyes she could still imagine the hands of the men upon her skin.  
  
She thought of the judge who had sentenced her, and imagined the disgust on his face should he ever have imagined this. And laughter bubbled up and through her like madness, and soaked into the stone, and men who had no idea of who she was hurried past her door.


End file.
